


The Obligatory Bus Fic

by Hobbit_Riddlebird



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Based on series version of characters, But pre shippy, Canon - TV, I want Crowley to give Aziraphale a hug, I want to give Crowley a hug, Just another bus fic, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Nothing to see here, Post Apocanope, Tags Are Longer than the Fic, can be read either way, non shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 23:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit_Riddlebird/pseuds/Hobbit_Riddlebird
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley discuss their situation on the bus ride post Apocanope.(Not as deep as it sounds).





	The Obligatory Bus Fic

**Author's Note:**

> My 1st Ineffable Husbands fic. :)
> 
> This is just a short fic that I wrote to get into practice of writing Aziraphale and Crowley. 
> 
> (Posting for a new fandom is always like taking a high dive into a pool of water. Posting for an established fandom? In ice cold water with sharks.)

Aziraphale feels numb. He feels nothing. The bus is too quiet, the street outside the windows too silent. He has forgotten how to breath.

 

"You're thinking so loud I can hear your halo spinning, angel," Crowley speaks beside him on the same bench.

 

"I can't... I seem to have forgotten how to breath." He has read about panic attacks, he has witnessed them, is this what it felt to have one, he wonders.

 

"Have you forgotten as an ethereal being you do not technically need to breathe?" Crowley says much too loudly, even if the bus is empty but for themselves and the driver. "I held my breath between 1347 and 1350, the Black Plague," he shudders. "Nasty scent the black death. Gets in everything. Doesn't come out. Had to burn all my clothes, even that darling robe I had. You remember the one, couldn't stop staring at my legs."

 

"It was scandalous," he softly says. The horrible thing rode up so far when the demon lounged it left very little to the imagination. It had been wonderfully scandalous. "It is good that it burned."

 

"Just as you let those books by your Oscar Wilde burn? Or those Chagall paintings those Nazis had stolen?" He can see the demon smirk at his side as though he had caught him.

 

"That is different. That was art," Aziraphale argues. "All art is...is holy."

 

"I think we can both agree, my legs are also a work of art, angel," he whispers in his ear. "And just as holy."

 

Aziraphale begins to laugh before thinking better of it. He puts his hand over his mouth. 

 

"Don't, angel," Crowley says. "Always thought it a shame that one of the few things our sides have in common is no one laughs. If you ask me your churches should be filled with laughter instead of prayers."

 

"What a marvelously blasphemous notion," he teases the demon. "Maybe I should bring your suggestion to Gabriel, just imagine it."

 

"I would sooner hear Beezlebub themself laugh," the demon makes a face. "Those two are more akin than they would either care to admit."

 

Aziraphale could not bring himself to defend his superior. 

 

"The first time I ever laughed was on top of the wall of Eden standing next to a snake demon, did you know that?" It may have been the first time an Angel laughed, the first laughter in God's new World.

 

"I consider that one of my greatest demonic miracles, tempting one of Her creatures to laugh in Her own Garden," he lowers his voice. "Do you regret it? Any of it? All of it?"

 

"I may regret a great many things but never sheltering a demon from the rain," Aziraphale smiles fondly. Little did he know how that one small act would have such an impact on the future of the entire World. "We came so close to losing it all... If Adam had not... We almost lost."

 

"But we didn't, angel," Crowley puts his arm around the back of the seat, not quite touching Aziraphale. "Even if it looked like game over for a bit there with no extra tokens. Shoulda booked a one way ticket to Alpha Centauri." 

 

"Why didn't you?" he asks. 

 

"My best friend was gone, suppose the end of the World didn't seem so important anymore. My world had already ended, angel." He shrugs. "Anyway would've had to leave the Bentley behind. No ferry to Alpha Centauri, is there?"

 

Aziraphale inhales sharply. He has known for some time, hadn't he, he admits. He thinks of the World that he loves with all of his molecules and how Crowley has been there since the beginning. They had been together at the beginning and nearly there for the end, he thinks.

 

"And yet you came," he looks out the window, he watches the demon's reflection. Crowley had always came. Every time he needed him. 

 

"Figured if it really were the end and all would rather stand at your side, angel." The fallen angel looks away. "Already lost you once, weren't going to lose you again." 

 

"There is no one on the Earth, above or below, that I would have rather have been at my side," Aziraphale earnestly tells Crowley. And yet the World did not end. He supposes they are both free to go their own way now that the Agreement has likely ended. "Where do we go from here?" 

 

"Anywhere we like, we're free agents now, Aziraphale," the demon chuckles. "I mean yeah we're fugitives but we're free fugitives." 

 

"I suppose it is too much to wish that they will leave us alone." 

 

"We embarrassed Heaven and Hell, neither of our sides will soon forget about that," Crowley searches the seats behind them even though no one could have come in without them noticing. "I figure we've got two days before the warrants are signed for our respective arrests, so to speak." 

 

"We faced Armageddon and won," Aziraphale faces Crowley. "What is Heaven and Hell?" He touches the prophecy in his pocket, they would figure it out. "If we stand side by side." 

 

Aziraphale holds his hand out to Crowley. The demon takes his hand and squeezes, he knows the fallen angel well enough by now to recognize fear. 

 

"We committed treason, angel," he looks over his sunglasses. "That's another thing our side has in common, treason is punishable by destruction." The demon's pupils are fine slits. 

 

Crowley is right, Aziraphale knows. And Heaven will not go any easier on them than Hell will. 

 

"Whatever happens we stand together, Crowley," he brings the demon's hand towards his lips. "I will not allow them to separate us again. Heaven and Hell will face something they never expected, an angel and demon standing together." 

 

Crowley adjusts his lenses so they conceal his eyes. "You do not know what you're saying, angel." 

 

"Together," Aziraphale promises.

 

The bus stops.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this is a prologue to another longer (and shippy) fic i want to write. 
> 
> If you feel like saying hi please do so!  
> (As long as you don't bite!)


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